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tsunami-of-tears · 2 months

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Peace

Cassian x Reader

Summary: Your cousin passes away abruptly and Cassian is there to help pick up the pieces.

A/N: Another self-insert fic because writing is so ✨healing✨ ~ apologies, this one is super sad

Wordcount: 1K

Warnings: hurt/comfort, death of a relative, chronic illness, dealing with grief/loss

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ

Time stands still as your father’s words echo in your mind.

“She didn’t make it.”

Your cousin and the Princess of Adriata, Cresseida, had at last succumbed to her devastating illness. She’d suffered a lot, but you selfishly thought you’d have more time. There was still so much you wanted to ask her. She had so much wisdom that you’d never get to hear. You didn’t even have the chance to tell her about your mate, Cassian.

Your mate. Your rock.

Though your heart aches at the loss, you are grateful to have Cassian to help you through it. Together you were an unbreakable force.

However, not unbreakable enough to grant him entrance to the Summer Court for Cresseida’s funeral.

That ban was still firmly in place as the bond was new. With all that had happened, you hadn’t had the chance to mention it. Your father, Tarquin, was grieving profusely - so you didn’t think it was appropriate.

I’ll tell him after the funeral, we can wait a little bit longer.

Though Cassian wanted to be there for you in person, he supported your decision to keep things quiet.

Cresseida was like an auntie to you. As the eldest of Tarquin’s six children, you had the honour of saying a few words at the funeral ceremony.

The weeks leading up to the funeral went by in a blur. You went about your days feeling numb to the world. You hadn’t shared a single tear over your cousin. It didn’t feel real.

You’d put off writing your eulogy until the last minute for that very reason. You still struggled to wrap your head around the fact that she was gone. Just. Like. That.

Never again would you hear her laugh or see her smile. You’d never again get to hear the stories about her childhood with your father, not in the way she could tell them.

“It’s all wrong,” you sigh, exasperated over your eulogy. Your desk was littered with scrunched-up papers, your hands were covered in smears of ink.

A warm hand gently strokes your back, attempting to soothe you.

“Sweetheart, you’re overthinking it,” Cassian says.

You slump forward, head in your hands. “I don’t know why I agreed to this. I’m not good at this sort of thing,” you groan.

“We both know you’re the best person for the job. She loved you, I know she’d be proud of you, just like I am.” Cassian moves his hand to hold your face, tilting your face to look up at him.

You nod and press your cheek into his palm. Cassian leans down and plants his lips on yours. His love and encouragement flood down the bond. “You can do it, you’ve got this,” he says against your mouth.

You lean into him again, kissing with more heat and raw need. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tangle in his hair as he grabs your hips and effortlessly lifts you onto the desk.

For a moment, you get lost in passion with your mate. Until the loud crash of books falling from the desk gets your attention.

Cassian pants heavily as he pulls away, you groan as you rest your forehead against his broad chest. “I really need to finish this and head to Summer. I can’t right now.”

Cassian kisses you, softly and sweetly. “Of course, sweetheart,” he says.

————

The following morning, you stand outside the temple with one of your sisters, watching everyone file in. There are so many people you don’t recognise.

Your eyes brim with tears.

This is it. She’s really gone.

You look at your sister and the floodgates burst open.

Tears pour and pour and pour. You feel like you’re drowning in devastation. You can barely take in enough air to breathe.

Your sister pulls you into a tight hug as you let out choked sobs. She rubs your back and you manage to calm your breaths. In, and out.

You sigh into the embrace and wish you hadn’t opted to wear makeup. You attempt to wipe the smears from under your eyes to no avail - the tears just keep falling.

It’s time to go inside and begin, so you walk down the middle aisle to your seats in the front row, avoiding making eye contact with everyone.

As you settle into the chair, the organ starts to play a soft song. The High Priestess steps to the front of the dais and begins the ceremony.

You continue to cry through most of it, as your father and other relatives speak.

You somehow manage to compose yourself to deliver your own eulogy. You only choke on the final line.

“I love you. I hope that wherever you are, you’re at peace now.”

————

You have a dark cloud over your head for the rest of the day.

So many strangers come up to compliment you on your beautiful words. You thank them all for their kindness, offering handshakes and hugs, but it feels shallow.

A trace of bitterness sets in, they don't understand. They didn’t know her like you did.

You endure the wake for your father’s sake. He’s really hurting, and he needs you here. It’s the time to be with family, you just feel at a loss without all of yours.

��———

After the longest day of your life, you finally get to return home.

You open your front door to Cassian plating up dinner. Nothing too crazy, just your favourite comfort meal - mac and cheese. It’s then that your stomach rumbles and you remember that you’ve barely eaten all day.

Cassian looks up as you enter, putting down the saucepan and opening his arms to embrace you. “Come here my love, I’m so proud of you. Cres would be too. I wish I could have got to know her better.”

You nod in response. Words are too hard right now.

“I made your favourite, come and eat. You’ll feel better.” You give Cassian a small smile as you sit and tuck into the cheesy pasta. He knows you need some extra help today.

After dinner, Cassian carries you to the bathroom, runs your bath and helps you wash.

Wrapped in a towel, you sit at the vanity as he brushes your hair, all while whispering sweet nothings.

Once you’re dressed, Cassian carries you to bed where you snuggle up on his chest as he reads your favourite book to you. You fall asleep wrapped in his arms, you’re at peace too.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acosf #acotar fic #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian acotar #cassian angst #cassian oneshot

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queercontrarian · 5 months

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WE'RE COMPLETING THE SUMMER COURT SERIES, BABYYYYY

princess cresseida of adriata, aka MY WIFE

[insert lady gaga gif here]

again by the wonderful @mossytrashcan they just get my vision 😩

#amazing showstopping spectacular #cresseida acotar #adriata #summer court #it's her world y'all just live in it #acotar

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moonlightazriel · 4 months

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Son of the Darkness XX /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Hidden for so long The court of shadows thrived, and things were great until the high lord's death, now the next in line should assume the crown of high lord of shadows, will he accept his duties?

Warnings: What can I say at this point? It’s all out war….

Word Count: 1,8K

Notes: Yep, Y/N’s speech was taken from Theseus speech from the movie Immortals, sue me

Son of the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

The extent of Hybern’s army was terrifying, thousands of men gathered to kill whoever dared to stand in their way. But as Y/N watched their troops, blue, golden, orange, black and yellow, all the armies from seven High Lords, she knew they had a chance.

Vivianne, the soon to be High Lady of Winter, held the human girl, Briar, in her arms. Evanore was around them, petting and talking to the white bears the army had. The atmosphere felt almost peaceful as they got ready for the battle.

It took two days to transport the whole army, going directly against Hybern. They had moved again, and they all came to the conclusion that Hybern was clearly postponing the battle, after all, he couldn’t get what Nesta took from the cauldron back, and now that she had more control over her power, he was probably scared of what she could do.

And now, they were ready to face that army, a few kilometres from where they originally planned to meet them. The witches have been draining power from the earth for a few hours, and the army was resting until it was time to face each other.

This time, Rune and the others would join, healing would have to wait, as all the force was necessary in that battlefield. They had also transported any human near the battle to Adriata where princess Cresseida was taking care of them.

Feyre and Amren had a plan to stop the cauldron and the army, needing to get close enough to touch it. And they’re also getting ready to release Bryaxis on that army. She hasn’t seen Feyre in a while. But she had checked on Elain, she was still afraid but wasn’t hurt.

The inner circle reunited, exchanging their comforting words to each other, some prayed to the mother, the witches kept to themselves but Y/N held her sword, in front of the NightFall.

“I am one of you, I share your blood and I share your fear.” The female yelled, her voice reaching the quiet soldiers. “But to run now, we offer our souls and the souls of the innocent to a terrible darkness.” One by one, the soldiers from her army started to hit their shields with their swords, the music echoing through the camp. Until every one who held a shield joined.

“We must stand and fight, their numbers count for nothing in that battlefield.” More chanting. “They are cowards, they hide behind their masks, they bleed like you and I.” She yelled even louder. Azriel watched with pride filling his senses as his mate encouraged the whole army. “Listen to me! Stand your ground! Fight for your honour!” The swords slammed against the shield. “Fight for the man beside you! Fight for those who bore you! Fight for your children! Fight for your future! Fight for your name! Survive!”

With her sword pointed to the army who gathered near the beach, waiting for the bloodbath, she yelled one more time.

“Let us write history with Hybern’s blood.” The soldiers behind her roared their fury, and they marched to the war.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Battle happened everywhere, metal clashing against metal, the sounds of man dying filled her senses, so overwhelming and bone chilling, but she swallowed any trace of fear, going on her killing spree.

Bryaxis had just joined, the endless shadow passed by her, hummed in greetings to her. She could see Azriel in the skies, Rhysand’s power in huge waves, everyone who had magic in their blood used how they could.

The witches formed a unity, walking together, using both magic and their weapons to kill. Eris was behind Evanore, his eyes tracking her every move, Y/N felt her heart swell with happiness, she didn’t have to worry about her.

Her magic flared in strikes, men falling to the ground whenever they touched it. The necklace kept shining between her breasts, indicating that Azriel was alright. And when she couldn’t reach with magic, her sword was finding its target.

Everything was happening so fast, the three figures, The Bone Craver, Bryaxis and The Weaver killed hundreds in their path, the soldiers from Hybern were slowly being erased from the earth.

Trumpets sounded somewhere to the north, and Y/N watched from in between the commotion, three more armies joined, a green one from Spring Court, another orange one, Beron walked with more soldiers, Eris’s brothers mounting horses from in between the army, fire blazed and something exploded. The third army was made from humans.

The ash poison was burning in blue flames, giving them an advantage since now they didn’t have more poison to use, Y/N roared in excitement as she beheaded a male in front of her.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Too tired, she felt too tired, her muscles burned, she wanted to stop, but she couldn’t. Blood soaked her hair and clothes.

She heard someone screaming for Cassian, she saw him flying to where Nesta stood at the top of the hill. And where he was mere seconds ago, the soldiers that stayed, were erased from the skies, as the King used the cauldron. The next shot was closer to his army than hers, and she concluded that he didn’t care about his soldiers, sacrificing them to get what he needed.

It was then that another trumpet sounded, and this time she was sure it didn’t belong to them. Azriel landed by her side, her shadows protecting them from anyone who tried to get close.

“They have a fucking armada. I saw Tarquin going there but there’s no way he can get rid of them alone.” He warned.

“Fuck!” Y/N cursed, and he felt someone approaching them. His eyes landed on the blonde male from the Bloody Moon ritual, the one who had upset her.

“Look at what we have here, the bastard and his bitch.” Luther spat. “I was looking for you.” He pointed at her.

“This is going to be good.” Azriel smilled.

Y/N stepped out of the shadows removing her helmet and retrieving them, she wanted to kill him with her pure force, not with her magic. She assumed a fighting instance, discarding her sword and going for a dagger instead.

“Hopefully your uncle is waiting for you in hell.” The male lunged for her, she spun to the side, getting out of the way, the sword cut the air, and she kicked him. His swords clashed against her dagger, and he punched her nose, blood pouring out of it.

“How does it feel?” She asked. “To always be beneath me? Never being able to be better than me, even if you tried so fucking hard.” He aimed for her once more, and she dodged, sweat ran down her forehead as she kept dodging and punching him sometimes.

They were both bloodied and panting. “Having to see everyone choose me, over and over again? Knowing you would never be good enough and that your name didn’t matter.” Luther screamed in fury. “That I earned my position and that a simple female will always be better than you.”

Luther descended his sword upon her, she rolled on the ground, quickly getting to her feet and impaling him with her dagger. Blood poured from his mouth. She held his shoulder, her eyes boring into his as life slowly faded from his body.

“It’s a shame that you chose this, we would be really good friends.” The male groaned and she let him fall. Turning to Azriel, he pulled her close to him.

“It’s okay now.” He reassured her, handing her the helmet and saying his goodbye, flying back to the battle.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“The people from our court can see better in the dark, one of the perks of being born in the shadows.” Azriel thought, finding her again after twenty minutes apart. Her words ringed in his head, clear as the bright sky above his head. The plan formed in his mind and something in his chest told him that she would understand without the need of communications. So he did.

His wings flapped faster, making him go higher in the sky, so high that he could almost touch the sun, his syphons glowed, a bright cobalt light coming from them as his shadows moved in awe, waiting for what he was about to do. He knew where she was, and with all his power singing in his veins, his shadows descending upon the earth, engulfing her and at least 20 soldiers from Hybern that were surrounding her. The last thing he saw was the smirk on her face as the shadows covered their bodies until they disappeared in the black mist.

She felt them before she saw them, her sword hitting another one, as she defended herself, from the corner of her eyes, she saw the black shadows behind her, eager to get to her, brushing her face in between her helmet as they formed a dome around her and the enemy’s soldiers. She blinked, her eyes easily adjusting to the dark, she was quick to end with the man she was already in a fight with, while the others walked around in the dark, trying to see something.

They stumbled around blindly wandering, not being able to leave the mist wall that surrounded them. She smirked, walking around, her feet silent as she walked on the soft grass, the first, she cut his abdomen open with her sword, the armour they were using not that effective against the weapon that the witches had blessed, her blade screeched as she dragged it against the metal, cutting through it like butter, the man screamed in agony, the blood splashing on her own armour, the others assumed a defensive stance, not knowing where to aim or what to expect.

She ran, silent as a ghost, all the soldier could feel was the slightly change in the wind and the whistle of her sword, the weapon sharp, cutting through the air and the flesh of one of the soldiers, his head flying away as she already got ready to defend the blind blows they tried to land, their bodies bumped into each other, the metal cackling as they did so. She pierced the skull of one of them, with her dagger while her sword pierced the chest of another.

One by one, they fell, their blood running down her armour was the only resemblance of that they were even alive someday, she walked out of the shadows, the mist dissipating behind her, the blood pooled around the bodies, their horrid expressions marred their faces forever as she walked away. Azriel knew she could do it, but he couldn’t help the pride that filled his chest as he saw her walking out, blood covering her from head to toe, she looked in his direction. And that was when she felt it.

The bond snapping into place.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Tagging: @allison-rosewood-maximoff @devilsfoodcake22 @fieldofdaisiies @valeridarkness @brekkershadowsinger @margssstuff @patdsinner33 @justdreamstars

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #moonlightazriel #azriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #night court #azriel x y/n #velaris #son of the darkness #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar

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animezinglife · 24 days

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Sounds of Summer

Time seems to move more slowly in the Summer Court, and Lucien and Elain take in every second. A short scene of the two in Summer.

Genre: Romance/Fluff Post-canon Elucien ficlet. Special thanks as always to @lucienarcheron and @zenkindoflove for the continued support. I hope this brings you both peace and warmth this weekend. Elucien Masterlist | AO3

Time has always seemed to move more slowly in Summer. The thought strikes Lucien again now as he takes in Elain’s sleeping form. The sheets are draped over her in a near-tangled mess; her golden-brown waves fanning out around her on the pillow and one strap of her nightgown falling slack over her shoulder. She breathes deeply; serenely. At first, he doesn’t move, committing the sight–committing her–to memory. While she’s always beautiful–the most beautiful female he’s ever seen–seeing her slumber like this tugs at the quieter side of their bond. The side he’s been able to sense in her from the start, and that she’s sensed in him.

He silently curses the fact they have to wake at all.

Already, they’ve slept in, the sunlight and salty air from the massive, open doors filling their suite with mild heat and a hint of salty mist. She stirs slightly, a quiet, content hum barely audible over the sound of the sea outside. Gently, he brushes a strand of hair from her face, a small smile crossing his face as her brow furrows slightly.

“Elain.” His voice is low, still groggy from his own sleep. Her eyelashes flutter slightly though her eyes stay closed, and when she doesn’t move, he leans into her and brushes a kiss against her hair. She doesn’t wake–not entirely, anyway, instead letting out a small huff in complaint and turning onto her side so that she faces him. He can’t help the smirk that forms on his face at that, and he slides the strap of her nightgown back into place on her shoulder before lowering his lips to her forehead. He peppers small kisses to her cheek and jawline as he feels the approval she sends down the bond, and he rests his lips near her ear to murmur quietly before kissing her there, too: “They’re going to wonder where we are.” Another kiss as goosebumps rise on her skin. “What we’ve been doing,” he adds pointedly, and if he’d ever had a doubt that she’d begun feigning sleep now, the color that flushes her ears and her cheeks is enough to confirm her act.

Her eyes flutter open then, fawn-brown meeting his under those heavy lashes. Though she’s blushing at his implication, a small, sleepy smile crosses her face. Mother, he’ll never get used to this: waking up beside her, that subtle but addicting scent of honey and jasmine, and feeling her warmth.

Feeling the bond that hums between them, peaceful and content.

They’d stayed out late the night before–each night they’d been here in fact, after long days filled with a mix of meetings and sightseeing. Tarquin and Cresseida both had taken to Elain instantly, and Lucien was almost certain that if emissary business hadn’t often called them and if they hadn’t shared a bed, the princess of Adriata would’ve claimed as much time with her new friend as she could.

It was almost funny, Lucien thought, how easily his mate had charmed the High Lords and ladies of each court. How easily she’d found that balance of navigating politics and building trust–the latter of which seemed to fall quickly to the others genuinely liking her and calling her a friend. Cresseida had been no exception despite the watchful, calculated distance she had kept from the two of them at first–something Lucien had picked up was likely still a reservation from what had happened with the Night Court. While Elain had been given as much of the backstory as he had, she had met Tarquin and the princess with an easy smile and manners that charmed them and quickly had the latter gossiping about less political matters.

Lucien had still managed to steal her away though, or more accurately, Elain had managed to steal him away from the politicking and courtly social affairs. They’d made their way to the beach together after dinner the night before and walked alongside the water, letting it wash over their feet and Elain soak up the sights, sounds, and feeling of it. She had taken his hand and half-led him there, and given his hand a squeeze as they’d stopped, watching the sun sink below the horizon.

When propriety hadn't required them to join Tarquin for meals, they’d ventured out on their own to sample the local cuisine from a different, less courtly perspective. They’d explored countless shops and gardens; several bakeries that specialized in pastries with sea salt, chocolate, and caramel. Lucien hadn’t hesitated to show Elain to all the locations he could remember where the rare, tropical flowers of Summer bloomed, and at the sight of them her face lit up. She had clutched his hand and led him over to one plant in particular before he could react, leaning in towards its petals and taking a long, deep breath to sample its scent, expressing how much she’d loved the hints of orange, jasmine, plum, and amber.

When Cresseida had stolen her away the next morning to talk over colorful drinks, Lucien had returned to the shops until he’d found a perfume in the scent’s perfect match. He’d gifted it to her last night, and the sweet, gentle scent still lingers on her neck and wrists.

He lowers his lips to her neck then and she giggles, her arm looping around his neck lazily and tracing a line down the back of his bare shoulders.

“So persistent,” she says, her voice every bit still as tired as his sounds. But there’s a lightness to it he doesn’t miss, and when he meets her gaze again, she doesn’t hesitate before pulling him to her and pressing her lips against his own.

The kiss is as slow and lazy as the waves below. It’s coaxing; savoring and slow, even as she angles herself to deepen the kiss and traces his lower lip with the tip of her tongue. He’s too aware of the hem of her nightgown rising as she hooks a leg lazily over his waist. His hands find the curve of her waist–barely concealed by that thin silk–and pulls her soft frame against him. The small sound she makes nearly undoes him there, but he savors every bit of her he can take in: the taste of her lips, her scent, and soft curves against his body as they lay tangled there. He both hears and feels her heartbeat synching closely with his own as his hand trails over down over her hip, giving her a light squeeze that makes her breath catch before continuing down her bare thigh.

“I could get used to this,” she breathes against his lips, and he lets a small smile cross his face. She nudges the tip of his nose with her own–a gesture that sends a memory flooding through him of the first time she’d done so, and his amusement that had followed. That strange human gesture–as though she’d mimicked a curious, playful fawn–still floods him with warmth. “Being here with the sun and sea. I never thought I’d see the ocean, you know.”

“I’ll bring you here anytime you like,” he murmurs, and she gives him a soft smile.

“I know.” She kisses him again, this time more earnestly with her hand sliding to the side of his neck and down the slope of his exposed shoulder. When they separate briefly, he sees the twinkle in her brown eyes just before she pushes him then, climbing over him as his back draws flat against the sheets. He lets out a low laugh as she lies across him and kisses the corners of his mouth and jawline. When her lips find his scar he breathes her in deeply; his hand brushing her hair off her back and wrapping those golden-brown waves once around his hand.

“I’ll take you anywhere, Elain,” he whispers, and he doesn’t miss the caress she sends down the bond. It’s as though his mind and entire body react to it, too, whatever deep magic of that bond or their souls intertwining together and offering both a content, satisfied glow.

“I know that, too,” she says, and she rests so that her face is hovering barely an inch above his. She brushes a strand of his hair off his face, and he traces a strand of hers that he still holds in hand. “I’d go anywhere with you, but right now…” Her voice trails as she shifts, and he senses her intentions changing before her body gives any sign. Her cheeks flush slightly, and he commits the sight of it to memory–all of her to it. His free hand slides down her back knowingly, her scent changing quickly and his own body entirely too near to giving his own wants away. Yet he stays still and he watches her until her eyes pose a question. As her full lips quietly speak the words he’s already hoping he might hear. “I just…want you.”

He doesn’t wait for her to continue. He catches the back of her neck with his free hand and kisses her again. Softness turns to hunger, and the strap of her nightgown falls from her shoulders again she returns his intensity.

His warmth.

His desire.

His love.

His mate.

He doesn’t care what hour it is. He’ll give her every second, every minute, every hour he can.

The Summer Court will have to wait.

#elucien #elucien ficlet #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien fics #elucien short one-shot #acotar #summer court #the summer court #elain x lucien #lucien x elain #this is super over-the-top sweet so if you don't like fluff with a capital F #this probably isn't for you #wyse_ink #wyseinkworks #soft elucien

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kvitkapaporoti1 · 8 months

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And I continue my Eris x Cresseida propaganda😈

They just so done with the nonsense of the Autumn Court lords🙄I can’t explain you how much I need a fanfic about their relationship: how they are gossiping literally about EVERYTHING, plotting revenges and just chilling together 😭

#fan art #kvitkapaporotiart #acotar #acotar fanart #autumn court #eris vanserra #summer court #cresseida #princess of adriata #eris x cresseida #cresseida x eris #P.S. I used this iconic scene with Gomez and Morticia Addams as a reference.Love this couple with my whole heart ♥️

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ae-neon · 8 months

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Cresseida.

Princess of Adriata.

Lady of Summer.

#cresseida #can you tell #it was hard to find black models #now add colourism on top of that #ae aesthetics

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velidewrites · 2 years

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You missed Cresseida as a duck in your acotar duck thread from a while ago so what do you think she would be?

Truly a crime for which I offer my sincerest apologies.

They call her a princess, but this duck is nothing less than a queen in her own right. Her poised demeanour and seductive gaze are enough for you to know this is her world and we're just living in it. And you know what? I really don't mind.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

#acotar characters as ducks #princess cresseida of adriata #acotar memes #acotar #acomaf #my asks

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foxcort · 10 months

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acotar & asoiaf au collection || The Princess and Prince of Adriata as House Velaryon.

"The Old, the True, the Brave." // Cresseida Velaryon of Driftmark, Lady of the Tides and Princess of Driftmark.

ft. Varian Velaryon of Driftmark, Prince of Driftmark and Heir of House Velaryon, Master of Ships (formerly, while Nostrus Targaryen ruled the Iron Throne.)

#cresseida #varian #house velaryon #acotar #acotaredit #asoiaf #acotarasoiafedit #pls imagine cresseida and varian with dragons i beg u

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youcantkillamutant · 1 year

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Deeper Into The Drink: Prologue

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: ACOTAR (SJM)

Pairing: Tarquin x Black Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve always known that Cresseida would do whatever it takes to protect the Summer Court. You just didn’t realize that you were a part of that equation. So you vow to do all you can to help Cresseida and protect your court, which is proving to be difficult, what with the scheming lords of Summer, human refugees from the war, sly overtures of kindness from the Night Court and the growing desolation of the neighboring Spring Court. And yet, you think you might have been able to handle all of that, if the High Lord Tarquin wasn’t so…himself. It would have been easier still if your heart didn’t take notice of that fact.

Warnings: Depictions of violence, angst, mentions of death, slow burn (as is my custom), no smut (probably), lots of IC slander

Rating: 18+

Words:1K+

A/N: Um… Yeah idk how to explain this one honestly? I’m in my “let’s get some critical thinking going about the IC and their shitty actions” era and just can’t deal with how dirty they did Tarquin. So…yeah. I just want Tarquin to have more people on his side honestly. This story is set post-ACOSF in terms of timeline. This is my first time writing in this fandom, so be nice. Don’t like it don’t read it and all that jazz. Not Beta’d we die like men. I own nothing, all characters belong to SJM.

| Read on Ao3 |

🐚☀️🐚

When most in Prythian thought of the Summer Court, they thought of the sea. Admittedly, your court had the most beautiful view. There was no continent to disrupt your view of the cerulean water, nor factories to dilute the sea salt sharp air with smoke, only rolling water and white crashing waves. The sea off the coast of Adriata was the picturesque view on every postcard and in every painting. Still, you knew it wasn’t the best view in the Summer Court, not by a long shot. No, that view started further inland, south to the mountains, in the fields of farmland in the heart of your Court’s territory.

Those fields, full of summer ripe berries and crops on the cusp of harvesting, those fields were the best of the Summer Court. What was better than the rolling sea? A verdant valley and impossibly blue sky. A warm breeze that carried the scent of the sea but never the cold bite of it. Sun warmed cobbles and cottage glass glinting in the light. Home.

When you were growing up in the farmlands of the Summer Court. You’d learned about Prythian, read about the marvels of the Winter Court and dazzling architecture in the Day Court, but even then you knew that you’d trade all the magic in the world to lay in the fields of your village, listening to the sounds of the cattle and the sea on the wind, letting your brown skin warm as the sun kissed as though delivering a blessing.

You’d done just that as often as you could. Sometimes, with your parents, your friends, even a few sheep or two. Then a few years after you were old enough to feed the hens and stack the hay, Princess Cresseida arrived. She hated you at first, or perhaps she’d hated everything back then. She’d spent the first few days in your little village sitting in your family’s cottage, refusing the food your mother made and sitting in roiling silence. You decided to keep a wide berth from the princess, stories of her famed temper tantrums had reached the farmlands years prior, and you had no desire to be on the end of one.

So you did your chores and sat in the sun and loved the land and one day Cresseida joined you. She didn’t say a word, not even when you handed her a trowel and motioned for her to join you on your knees as you weeded the garden. After the weeding was done, you moved on to the next chore and she helped with that too. And on it went. Cresseida became your shadow, trailing you around the house, into the fields and around the village. She never said a word, brown eyes merely watching and studying and cataloguing everything. You didn’t mind the company. You’d never really hoped for a sibling, content to play with the other village children until the sun dipped into the sea and mother’s called you all back home, but spending time with Cresseida made you wonder what it would be like to have a sister.

And so, with that thought, you’d spent days thinking about what it might be like to have the Princess of Adriata as a sister. A bond, not by blood, but strong nonetheless. A support, a partner. A mirror, not in the sense that you were the same, at least not all the time, but in the way that you could look at a mirror and see every emotion writhing within you. The reflection deepening your understanding of yourself. You were so caught up in your daydreams that you nearly missed when Cresseida finally spoke.

“I never knew the farmlands could be so beautiful.” A sister. A mirror.

“It’s the most beautiful place in all of Prythian.” You smiled then, as Cresseida turned to you with a raised brow in challenge.

“You clearly haven’t seen the sea off of Adriata then.” You laughed, a light, tinkling thing and Cresseida quirked a smile. “The view from my room is the best.” You were both quiet for a while after that. You finished your chores, and it wasn’t until after dinner that she spoke in the bedroom you shared.

“My father sent me here because he trusts yours. He told me that if I ever wanted to rule our people, lead our people, I needed to know them, see them.” You turned to her cot on your own, tracing the shape of her silhouette. “I thought he was wrong. I’ve only known Adriata, and I thought that was enough. All of my father’s advisors and courtiers and family are there, what more could there be about our Court that they couldn’t teach me?” Cresseida exhaled loudly. “I think I was wrong.” You could tell it pained her to say it.

“Good, serves you city-folk right.” And for the first time since arriving at your village, you heard the Princess of Adriata laugh.

The pair of you became fast friends that summer, sniping snide remarks and sharing gossip about the people in the village and the courtesans of Adriata. On her last day, she wrapped you in a hug and you breathed in the salt of the sea, tinged with the scent of ripe berries and fresh, fertile soil. The smell of a true Summer Court citizen.

“Don’t forget about me sister.” You shook your head.

“Never.”

She returned year after year to tend the land and talk with the butcher and baker and blacksmith about anything and everything. By her third summer in the village, she’d met everyone, helped with the harvests and truly understood why her father sent her to this village, to you. She discovered the knowledge you had been born with. The people that owned the land, loved the land, were worth protecting with her life.

Years later, she held the memory of her first summer with you, sun soaked and dirty from harvesting, close to her heart, as she descended under the mountain.

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A/N: I guess I just wrote a love letter to the Summer Court? As a black American woman, I cannot imagine loving this country, but I wanted try for the Summer Court. I imagine the Summer Court as a beautiful place with sun, sea and rolling fields abound (after the mountain range). I imagine that, even in a world like Prythian, a land like that could be idyllic. I hope it wasn’t too much, but I’ll never know cause a bitch has never felt patriotic lol.

I wanted to play in the Summer Court sandbox because SJM cannot write a character of color to save her life and I want these babies to be happy. Cresseida is super interesting to me because SJM kind of let her embody the angry/snarky/unforgiving black woman trope through her (limited) appearances in the series and it’s lazy AF and boring. I think throughout the books you can see how passionate Cress is when it comes to her Court and for some reason (*cough* internalized racism *cough*) the IC finds it “annoying”. Well, I do not lol. I’ve had the idea for this story for a while now and it will not leave me alone so I decided to break down and write it. Tarquin is coming in the next chappie.

I’ve been reading lots of amazing work from @moodymelanist, @separatist-apologist and the posts and delicious drawings by @queercontrarian as inspo and living for these Summer Court mood boards.

I have no idea how long this will be, not even sure imma post this, but yeah…If you’re reading, I hope you like it!

Title is from Florence + The Machine’s song Swimming

oh and @yuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh this is the Tarquin fic I was whining about! 🥴

#My writing #mine #Tarquin #cresseida #summer court #acotar #acomaf #acowar #Deeper Into The Drink #TarquinxBlack!FemReader

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